


The Heart of the Fire

by Gabriel_seven



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_seven/pseuds/Gabriel_seven
Summary: Family get-together's can be trying at the best of times. When Moryo goes missing, Tyelko is sent to find him and stumbles on a cousin he has not met.





	The Heart of the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Amy Fortuna for her wonderful beta work and for Keiliss who initially helped with content.
> 
> This is part of my "The heart of the Fire" Series.

“One, two, three…,” Fëanor counted. Then he cursed, realising one of his sons was missing. He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face in utter frustration. “Tyelko!” A youth with milk-white hair spun around as his name was called. ”Go find your brother, will you?” Fëanor asked.

 

“Yes, Atar.” Tyelko knew instinctively which brother his father meant. It could only be Moryo. He was always the one hiding at family gatherings. 

 

He surveyed the dining room first, just to make sure his little brother hadn’t been overlooked. Moryo was adept at melting into a crowd.

 

Tyelko headed toward the solar and stepped into its peaceful surroundings, closing the door behind him. He stood there a moment breathing in the sweet scent of wild jasmine and the hint of juniper on the air. He loved his grandfather’s solar. It reminded him of the forest of Oromë. 

 

“Moryo? Where are you?” he called. “Atar is looking for you.” He made to turn and leave but heard a noise like someone crying. 

 

He moved further on down the path, peering behind shrubs, until he rounded a corner and there beneath an ornamental apple tree, sat a child. Her hiccupped sobs were almost drowned by the rushing water of the small stream bubbling beside her. Tears streamed down her little face, as she stared down at pieces of a beautifully crafted silver bow lying in her lap. 

 

“Hey, there.” A look of concern flickered across his fair features.

 

The little girl lifted her head at the voice, abruptly wiping tears away with the back of her hand to stare up at him with indigo blue eyes.

 

“What have you there?” he asked. 

 

The little girl shifted her gaze to her lap, picking up the pieces of her bow and holding them up to him. “My bow.” Her lips trembled. 

 

“Ah! I see,” he said, settling himself down in the soft green grass opposite her.

 

“Irissë, is it?” His face broke into a sympathetic smile as the child nodded. “I’m Tyelkormo, your cousin?” Irissë looked at him quizzically. “One of uncle Fëanor’s sons?” She nodded her understanding. “You can call me Tyelko,” He smiled more broadly at the hint of a smile he received.

 

Tyelko reached forward and cupped her face with a big hand, wiping another trail of tears from her cheek with his thumb. “There, that’s better.” 

 

His stormy grey eyes shifted to the silver in her lap. “May I?” He indicated, and Irissë handed him the pieces, watching with interest as he examined them. “This is a beautifully crafted bow,” Tyelko said, which brought another bout of tears from Irissë. 

 

“My big brother… ,” she said, her voice quivering, “Findekáno made it.” Irissë sobbed again, meeting his gaze with bleary eyes. It had been a begetting day gift from her two older brothers and something she treasured more than anything.

 

Findekáno made this!? Tyelko’s brows shot up. He was impressed. 

 

He reached out to comfort her, cupping her tiny hands with one of his own. “All will be well. I promise you,” he said with a broad and encouraging smile. Irissë wiped the tears away with the back of her hand while she watched him with a little pinch between her brows, still unsure. “I know someone who is an expert at silversmithing and will create a bow worthy of such a princess as you,” he assured her, plucking an apple blossom from the ground, slipping it into her hair and giving her a knowing wink.

 

Irissë nodded, her eyes lighting up with renewed hope at her cousin’s words. Gathering up the remainder of the silver in her lap, she passed it into Tyelko’s capable hands. “That’s my girl,” he said, standing up from his comfy position on the soft grass opposite her, and making to leave. 

 

“Tyelko?” 

 

Tyelko turned back. “Thank you!” Irissë threw herself forward, wrapping her tiny arms about Tyelko’s long legs.

 

“Oh! Okay.” Tyelko patted her head hesitantly and smiled down at her. “You’re very welcome.”


End file.
